


Don't make me close one more door

by elareine



Series: Advent Calendar 2019 [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: AU where Bruce and his kids are civilians, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Developing Relationship, M/M, Secrets, and Jason who is just Like That, except Dami who was raised by Talia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21634294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elareine/pseuds/elareine
Summary: Damian likes this life. His mission to find out more about his father's family turned into something more when he got to know his charge. He can see Richard and him continue on like this for a long time.But an old acquaintance turns up that threatens everything.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Damian Wayne
Series: Advent Calendar 2019 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558834
Comments: 4
Kudos: 160





	Don't make me close one more door

**Author's Note:**

> Day three: Bodyguard AU.

“Investing in health care is not just an investment in the current workforce. It’s also an investment in education and our future.” Richard gestured towards the graph projected onto the screen behind him. “Ladies, gentlemen, and gentlefolks, did you know that providing treatment for worm infections is the single most effective measure we can take to increase the days kids in developing nations spend in schools?” 

Inwardly, Damian smiled. In a minute or so, Richard would switch to images of tapeworms. Watching people react to that was a highlight of these evenings. 

There had been a bit of an argument, as always, about how close Damian was allowed to stand. In Damian’s opinion, a bodyguard that wasn’t close to enough to shield their charge with their body wasn’t worth a penny. Richard, of course, argued that he needed to be unencumbered and free to move on stage. (And on a walk. And doing his job. And doing his volunteer work. And—every day, all day, really.) 

It was a well-worn argument, by now; a habit more than a real fight. Damian stood a few meters away, blending into the curtains of the stage as well as he could. His partner and occasional relief, Colin, was guarding the other way onto the stage. Richard had moaned and whined, but he  _ was _ wearing the bulletproof vest. Damian had checked. 

It was a good comprise, he thought, one that left him free to listen to Richard’s speech with half an ear, noting the rapture on the audience’s face with some amusement. 

In the beginning, he had constantly imagined himself in Richard’s place. His rightful place at his father’s side—or so he had thought back then. The heir to a fortune and a heritage that was very different from his mother’s. 

These days? 

Well. These days, Damian carried some too-sweet cereal bars with him to make sure Richard ate. 

“How was that?” Richard asked when they were safe backstage. By now, he knew better than to ask Damian these questions when the younger man was trying to focus on possible threats in their environment, and Damian appreciated his reticence. It didn’t come naturally. 

“Good,” Damian answered honestly. “Too wordy when you talked about the financial situation, of course, but you convinced everyone.” 

Richard laughed. “Yes, I could see some eyes glazing over. I’ll have to adjust that part of the presentation. But it’s really for a good cause, you know. That’s the most convincing thing.” 

“If you say so.” Damian doubted it. Richard was much more of an idealist than he was, but he surely must have noticed that it was his personal magnetism that drew people to—there was a stranger backstage. A big hulking figure, dressed in army cargoes and making their way toward them. 

Damian’s eyes narrowed. He knew that walk, had followed that back through half a dozen combat missions. If Jason Todd was here to make trouble—

“Jason!” Richard called out, sounding delighted. He ran past Damian, completely ignoring his bodyguard’s protective stance to fling himself into Todd’s arms. 

Todd, to his credit, only looked mildly inconvenienced at those proceedings, returning the hug gingerly. “Hi, Dick. Happened to be in town, thought I’d stop by.” 

“Oh, now you do. And you just happened to forget letting us know beforehand, thereby ensuring that Bruce isn’t here to see you?” 

“Exactly.” 

Richard turned to Damian, gesturing excitedly. “Damian, this is my brother, Jason. He’s a fuckwit who doesn’t call often enough.” 

“I can tell,” Todd said drily. “For example, I completely missed that you have a bodyguard now, much less one that’s so… well-trained.” 

His eyes on Damian were thoughtful. 

“Jason? Do you know Damian?” Richard asked. 

Damian couldn’t help but hold his breath. If Todd chose to betray him now… 

It wasn’t that he couldn’t fight his way out of the situation. He could. Todd was a formidable fighter, but he would have no reason to go all out on Damian. 

But… Richard would be disappointed in him, Damian realized. If he was exposed like that—how would he be able to convince the other man that he had never meant to harm him, had stayed on only because he wished to keep Richard safe? 

He could lose Richard, and at that moment, that was the most terrifying possibility of all. 

“We worked security together in Afghanistan,” Todd said. It was not a lie. “Maybe he will tell you all about it.” 

“I did not realize you are brothers,” Damian replied evenly, trying not to betray his relief. 

“Yes, we do not much resemble each other, do we?” Richard asked ruefully. “And of course, Jason is always traveling around the globe these days.” 

“If I remember correctly,” Damian dared to point out, “that is a better option than having him deliver a speech.” 

It was the kind of ribbing they had shared many times in those darker days, back when they’d been trying to scout a cave system riddled with traps, and Todd reacted accordingly, shooting back: “Oh, look, he’s saying fifteen words in a row. Is that some kind of record?” 

“Great, more bickering,” Richard groaned, though Damian could tell he was hiding a smile. “Can we at least get dinner while we insult each other?” 

“Sure, as long as you’re not cooking.” 

“It was nice, seeing Jason again,” Richard told Damian that evening as they were getting ready for sleep. He was stripping down to his shorts again; at this point, Damian had given up on trying to get him changed into something more suitable in case of an emergency. 

He himself was changing into silk pajamas, his service weapon close at hand. Richard knew better than to comment on the knife holster strapped across Damian’s back. Damian seldomly took it off, and certainly not for sleep. 

As always, they met in the middle of the bed, Richard crawling into Damian’s arms with a sigh. Early on in their relationship, Damian had realized that his charge craved bodily contact, needed touch like other people water. It had only been rational to offer to provide for that need himself, instead of having Richard go out and potentially endanger himself. That was how the need for a bodyguard had arisen in the first place, after all. 

It was deeply unprofessional. Damian wouldn’t have it any other way. 

By his side, Richard began to laugh. Damian supposed one could call it a chuckle, though it was more of a giggle, really. Though it wasn’t clear to him what was so funny. 

“You put yourself between me and literally every entry-point.” Richard shook his head, still laughing. “You can’t stop doing your job, can you?” 

Damian stayed silent. It was more than that. Protecting Richard had become part of his very nature. It wasn’t about preserving the symbol anymore—Richard Grayson, born to the circus life, adoptive son of Bruce Wayne, a shining symbol of change in this city, advocate for healthcare and justice reform—it was about making sure that Richard could laugh like this every day. 

“Anyway,” Richard murmured, talkative as always. “I was saying—it was good to see Jason again. I would’ve never known about your past, otherwise.” 

They were so close. Damian knew there was no way Richard would miss the change in his breathing. “I am not so mysterious.” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Richard mused. “A man in his late twenties, evidently terrifyingly well trained in all fighting styles imaginable, shows up with a resume that’s faked well enough it manages to fool even Bruce for a while. Instead of enacting any dastardly schemes, he’s prevented at least three assassination plots he thinks I don’t know about and cuddles me every night. I’d call that plenty mysterious.” 

“I—” Damian felt lost. On the one hand, this was his chance to come clean to Richard, as he should have done months ago. On the other hand… he couldn’t bring himself to lose this; not now that he knew what it meant to him, to have Richard so close, safe in his arms. 

There was a warm hand on his cheek, bringing him back into the present. “I’m giving you a blank cheque tonight,” Richard told him. “Tell me everything, and I promise I will not be angry.” 

Damian shook his head. “You cannot promise that.” 

“Maybe not.” Despite the concession, Richard was beginning to smile. “But I can promise you that I will not push you away, no matter how angry I am.  _ If _ I am, which is less likely than you think. You’ve done more to earn my trust than… anyone, in a long time.”

“I lied to you.” A lie of omission was a lie, nonetheless. Damian had seen people killed for less. 

“You earned it through your actions, not your words. Tell me about yourself, Damian,” Richard whispered, dropping the gentlest of kisses on Damian’s forehead. “Tell me about yourself, and stay.” 

It felt like a benediction. 

Damian took a deep breath. “I was born in 1990 in the Syrian steppe. No one knew who my father was then…” 


End file.
